


and your eyes look hungry again

by endofadream



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Clothing Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of their own volition Lee’s eyes begin to travel down, following the line of Richard’s throat, to land on the maroon sweater that he’s wearing. More specifically, the sweater that is nearly two sizes too big on Lee from an online shopping fiasco that he didn’t want to deal with returning and that, on Richard, falls well past the middle of toned thighs and hangs loose and boxy around his lean form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and your eyes look hungry again

**Author's Note:**

> I said that for my second fic I'd write something a bit more family-friendly, but...well, things just never work out that way, honestly. Next time! (If there's hopefully a next time.)

A crick has been growing in Lee’s neck for the past few hours, snowballing from a faint there-and-gone twinge to a full-on throb that no manner of twisting or stretching can alleviate. All he wants right now, besides a shot of whiskey or something equally as strong, is to go home, take a shower, and sleep like he doesn’t have another batch of interviews and press again tomorrow.

He’s still nursing his neck as he slots the key into the door of the apartment, unlocking it and stepping inside. He closes the door behind him, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door and calls out an “I’m home” that echoes almost unsettlingly in the high ceilings. He doesn’t receive an answer but doesn’t dwell on it, too focused instead of getting out of these clothes and into something he feels more comfortable in—preferably lounge clothes. And nothing with zippers or buttons.

He makes his way back to the bedroom, already undoing the buttons of his shirt as he goes and blinking tiredly, stifling a yawn.

“Long day?”

His head snaps up at the familiar lilted words, and Lee's voice dies in his throat. Richard is leaning casually against the doorframe, mug in his hand. His dark hair is messy, like he’s just woken up, and the smile on his lips is small, intimate, genuine. Of their own volition Lee’s eyes begin to travel down, following the line of Richard’s throat, to land on the maroon sweater that he’s wearing.

More specifically, the sweater that is nearly two sizes too big on Lee from an online shopping fiasco that he didn’t want to deal with returning and that, on Richard, falls well past the middle of toned thighs and hangs loose and boxy around his lean form. It should look ridiculous but it somehow, miraculously, doesn’t, serving instead to make Richard look like something out of nearly every wet dream that Lee’s ever had. Immediately all exhaustion and irritation from the day melt away, evaporated by the surging, rolling heat of lust building low in Lee’s belly that just begins to stir his cock.

"Very long day," he replies, words catching only slightly. He takes two long strides towards Richard, backs him up against the wall. Richard goes easily, mug held against his chest as he looks up, smile broadening slightly. It crinkles his eyes and makes Lee’s stomach swoop, makes an answering smile spread across his own face. He wets his lips and stares at Richard’s unashamedly, making sure that a little smolder colors the suggestiveness of his words. ”little better now that I’m seeing you, honestly."

Richard chuckles, stroking down Lee’s side with his free hand. Lee uses the opportunity to take the mug from Richard and set it on the nightstand, and with both hands free now Richard settles them low on Lee’s hips, thumbs finding the dip of muscle over the soft cotton of Lee’s button-down and slotting there, stroking in soft motions that rise the hairs on Lee’s arms and make him sigh.

"Mmm, missed you," Richard murmurs, tilting his head up to brush his nose against Lee’s. With eyes half-opened Lee can see the smile that stretches Richard’s lips once again. "The place is too quiet without you."

Lee slides his hands up the lines of Richard’s sides, curves them around to Richard’s chest to feel the hard muscle of his pectorals and the pebble of his nipples through the thick cable-knit of the sweater. Richard breathes out a soft sound, eyes closing slightly and mouth dropping; Lee takes the opportunity to press their lips together, kissing Richard hard and deep as his hand slides lower until it brushes the hem of the sweater.

Richard’s tongue is velvety and slick against Lee’s when Lee grips Richard’s thigh and hikes it up, and Lee swallows down the mewl that Richard lets out as their hips press together. Lee sucks on Richard’s lower lip as he pushes the hem of the sweater up, up, glorying in every inch of pale skin that’s revealed. When his fingers brush soft skin at the juncture of a thigh, just the hint of coarse hair as they seek over, Lee breaks the kiss with a gasp, heart thudding in his chest and echoing in his ears.

Richard’s eyes are half-open, lips slick and kiss-red, and Lee looks down at the rucked-up hem of the sweater, at the bared line of the tendon of Richard’s thigh and the hint of heavy balls as he pushes it a little higher, and says, consciously aware of the slightly-higher pitch of his voice, “You aren’t wearing any underwear.”

The look he receives is nothing short of salacious.

"You know my propensity to sleep in the nude," Richard says innocently, cupping Lee’s jaw and stroking his cheek. Then he bites his lip, _that bastard_ , and there is no trick of the light as his eyes sparkle mischievously. 

Lee swallows down what would’ve probably been an extremely embarrassing whine, letting the hem of the sweater fall again to drape obscenely now over the jut of Richard’s cock. He’s never actually been the type of guy to care about seeing his significant other in his clothes, and though this is hardly the first time that Richard has borrowed his one of his shirts there’s just… _something_ about this sweater. Or maybe it’s the idea that it’s _all_ that Richard has on and that he’s pressed against the wall looking demurely up at Lee, thin lips swollen already and parted, baring a hint of white teeth and the pink shine of a tongue. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so _damn_ fuckable.

Whatever it is, Lee doesn’t dwell on it as he grips the backs of Richard’s thighs, tugs him forward and up, and Richard has only the barest moment to get the hint before he’s wrapping his arms around Lee’s neck with a surprised squeak, legs following suit as Lee hoists him up, closes his eyes with a heavy groan at the tempting hot-hard press of Richard’s cock against his belly.

Luckily the bed is only a few feet away, the mattress squeaking under Richard’s weight as Lee tips him down, standing for a moment longer at the foot of the bed. Richard looks up at him, eyes wide and darkened, black pupils eclipsing a faint burst of blue. The sweater has rucked up with his bent knee, and Lee devours the sight of one bared thigh greedily, lets his eyes sweep Richard’s body once more before he climbs onto the bed and straddles Richard’s hips, leaning down to press their lips together.

Richard’s fingers slide through his hair, grip and tug as he sighs, opening his mouth easily for the thick, velvety press of Lee’s tongue. he lets out a tiny moan when Lee runs one of his hands down his chest, heel bumping against the heavy swell of his cock.

“Lee,” Richard begs, breathless. he nips at the line of Lee’s jaw, lips wet and warm as they suck and Lee shivers, choking out a moan as his hand slides up under the sweater, fingers wrapping around Richard’s cock. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Richard gasps, and it’s throaty and caught off-guard. his head falls back against the pillow, neck bared beautifully to the room.

Lee looks up, watches the bob of Richard’s throat, the work of his jaw as Lee strokes him twice with tight, quick pulls of his hand. He’s quick to push the sweater up Richard’s abdomen, quick to move and gently nudge heavy thighs apart, which Richard complies to with such readiness, spreading his thighs wide, that Lee has to press the heel of his hand against his own cock strained in his jeans.

“Fuck, Rich,” Lee murmurs. He rubs broad palms over the muscles of Richard’s thighs, feeling the tense and give of them, the faint whispers of hair as he goes against the grain. Though this is far from new Lee has trouble sometimes believing that Richard is his, that he gets to see this body, play it and take it apart with the reverence that Richard gives to his instruments, that Lee gives to every craft of every character he’s played. “You look so gorgeous like this, you know that?”

Richard huffs out a laugh, mouth quirking up on one side as he lifts himself, immediately going for the buttons on Lee’s shirt as he says, “You’re so full of it.” Lee helps him, popping the button on his jeans and sliding down the zipper once Richard has tugged his shirt loose. Richard nudges Lee’s hand out of the way and slides his hand into Lee’s pants, palm curving over the shape of his cock through his boxer-briefs.

Lee moans, eyes slipping shut and head tilting back. His hips jerk forward as Richard rubs over the head, goes lower to cup Lee’s balls and back, then, further still to press between the clothed divide of his ass. Lee’s jaw goes slack, breath coming in stuttered little pants as Richard breathes out his name in almost reverential, stretched syllables 

“Okay,” Lee gasps, grabbing Richard’s wrist where it’s working his cock, now, long fingers stretched over the girth of it. “Okay, you have to…fuck, you have to stop or i’m going to come.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Richard asks, plays dumb as he looks up, lower lip between his teeth.

Lee rolls his eyes, retaliates with a hand on Richard’s cock where it’s weeping against his belly, still hidden by the sweater. Which is such a shame; Lee really needs to rectify that as soon as possible. “Such a smartass.” He goes for chastising but it’s difficult to get the proper tone when a hand is on your dick; a hand that is, also, entirely too talented for its own good.

Richard finally lets go with a smirk, eyes hooded and dark and dangerous in that way that makes Lee want to whimper and roll over like a dog in heat. The urge is pulling, maddening, and Lee shucks the rest of his clothes with reckless abandon, heedless of where they go as he tosses them away. It earns him a laugh, low and amused, and Lee kneels back on the bed just in time to stop Richard where he has the sweater half-pulled up his torso already, abdominal muscles bunched beautifully with exertion.

“No,” he says quickly, and Richard peeks up at him, brows raised. Lee clears his throat and reaches out, grasps the hem of the sweater and gently tugs it loose. Suddenly he feels embarrassed, shifting a little uncomfortably and blushing hot at the sway of his cock and his unashamed nakedness. “I mean…uh, keep it on?” It comes out as a question and he winces internally. He meets Richard’s gaze and resolutely does not look away. He can’t explain why he wants this so suddenly, why the need has possessed him like it has. “Please? 

“Yes,” Richard rasps, quick, and he’s nodding, sitting up again and reaching for Lee, fingers curling on nothing in the air until they come in contact with the skin of Lee’s bicep. “Yes, Lee, god, of _course_.”

The kiss is hardly a kiss when Lee leans down again, bracing his weight on one hand as the other goes between them, fingers splayed wide over Richard’s abdomen before beginning to inch towards his cock. Richard shifts under him, whining into Lee’s mouth as he jerks, hips trying to seek up as Lee scratches his fingers through the hair above his cock.

“Tease,” he mutters against Lee’s lips, and Lee smiles, tracing down a vein before finally taking Richard in hand, relishing in the cut-off “ _Ahh_ —“ he receives, in the way that Richard’s leg knocks against Lee’s own when he tries to spread them.

“Want me to fuck you?” Lee asks, letting go to ghost over Richard’s balls, between his legs to seek out that secret place, that tight furl of muscle that he finds and presses against.

Richard keens in response, eyes squeezed tightly shut, brow furrowed. The neckline of the sweater is pulled to one side, exposing the sharp line of a collarbone, and Lee doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and nibble on it, sucking flesh between his sharp teeth to bring a bruise to the surface.

Richard’s pulse point thunders below the surface of his skin, and he cups the back of Lee’s neck with a broad, warm-palmed hand as he sucks in stuttered, uneven breaths. Lee pulls back, admires the red-purple circle, the indents of his teeth and the shine of saliva. It can be covered without a hassle, if it needs to be 

Twisting, Richard takes advantage of the moment and reaches into the drawer of the nightstand, tossing a bottle of lube onto the bed as well as a strip of condoms. He tears one off and tosses the rest back into the drawer, shutting it again before settling back down onto the bed.

Lee kneels between Richard’s legs, tapping his thighs. “Spread them,” He coos 

Richard laughs, rolling his eyes but obeying and spreading his legs wide, draping them over Lee’s hips. “You’re a bastard,” he says, but it’s on a laugh and his eyes are bright, scruffy cheeks dimpled in a grin. “You know that doesn’t work on me as well as it works on you.”

“You love how well it works on me,” Lee retaliates, popping open the lube and drizzling it over his fingers. he begins to warm it up as he adds, “You want—?”

“Like this.” Richard nods. Lee can feel the faint tremor of Richard’s thighs as he leans back, sweater still pushed haphazardly up his torso. he takes his cock in hand and Lee sucks in a sharp breath that whistles through his teeth. God, what a fucking sight. Richard has no idea how gorgeous he looks like this, like he’s sex personified, a neon-sign love bite screaming on his collarbone, the apples of his cheeks flushed rose pink above the dark scruff of his beard. His hand moves lazily over himself, swollen-pink head disappearing and reappearing in the loose circle of his fist.

The flush on Richard’s cheeks darkens, spreads down his neck as he closes his eyes, and with a start Lee realizes that he must have said some of it out loud.

“Well, it’s true,” he says, to cover himself. Richard snorts. 

That first push in—even when it’s just his finger—always makes Lee’s heart stutter. Richard clenches around him, letting out a sigh. Lee watches the way that he always does, enraptured at the ease with which Richard’s body accepts him.

“Good?” he asks, sinking in to the last knuckle and twisting his finger, crooking and swiveling.

Richard nods, arching slightly. “Mmhmm. Want—fuck, Lee, want more. Please. Hurry.”

Lee’s quick to get up to three, well-versed in the ways to play Richard’s body and relax him. He stretches his fingers as much as he can, crooking them and working them deep into Richard’s body with a slick, lewd sound that has Richard blushing between little sharp pants and that has Lee laughing softly against his throat. He presses a kiss there, looks between them at the jerking motion of his arm, at the way that Richard’s cock twitches on his belly when Lee brushes that spot that makes Richard let out a throaty gasp, body arching and locking as Lee rubs over it again. 

Richard grasps onto Lee’s shoulders and digs in with blunt nails, voice low and rough as he says, “Now, now, need you now.”

When Lee lines up, condom slicked and slippery against his fist as he holds his cock, he’s slow to push in, dividing his attention between the expressions on Richard’s face, the quick shifts between pain and pleasure and the aching undertone of pure, yearning want, and the steady feed of his cock into Richard’s ass. He takes Richard’s hips in his hand when he bottoms out, stroking them until the lines of discomfort disappear from Richard’s face, until he looks up with unfocused eyes and meets Lee’s.

It’s fast, just a hair’s breadth away from rough. Richard lifts his legs and locks them around Lee’s waist. One hand stays anchored to the sheets, the other to the pillow. His body is sinuous, sinful, as it arches to meet Lee’s thrusts, every breath low, grunted, moaned when Lee’s cock drives just right deep inside him. 

Richard tips his head back, to the side, begs for it faster, harder, "Fuck me, fuck me," his teeth sinking into his lower lip and his biceps straining as he stretches his arms above his head and reaches for the headboard. Lee trembles, obeys until the bed creaks and the headboard thuds against the wall. He shifts on his knees, nudging Richard’s thighs apart slightly to scoot closer and fucking in with a quiet grunt that has Richard’s lips parting, head digging into the pillow.

It’s amazing, every single time, that this Richard is the same Richard that blushes when Lee talks dirty outside the bedroom (and, often, even when they’re in it), who is so demure and shy and quiet at times that it completely diminishes his otherwise-imposing appearance. Because this Richard, the one who mewls and begs and drives Lee forward harder with ankles locked behind his back and heels digging into his ass, is anything but shy and quiet and demure.

Lee pushes the hem of the sweater up, dragging his nails down through sparse hair, skin slick and sticky with pre-come. He wraps his hand around Richard's cock, feeling it throb desperately in his fist as he strokes him. His other hand grips Richard’s side, now, holding tight. The smack of their skin is loud, slick, filthy in the room, and Lee chokes out a moan, heat coiling and pooling low in at the base of his spine.

“Close,” he pants, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

“Yeah,” Richard gasps. He works back onto Lee’s cock with quick snaps of his hips, eyes open to slits of darkened blue. He groans, low, rough. “Yeah, Lee, _fuck_.” His hand wraps around himself, working under the head before stroking himself in long, jerky twists of his wrist.

One of Lee’s hands slides up under Richard’s shirt, worries his nipples in turn until Richard is squirming and clenching maddeningly around Lee’s cock, throat bobbing as he keens and moans and says, thick and strung-tight and just on the edge, “I’m gonna—”

He comes with a moan of Lee’s name, voice wrenched from him in desperate little pants between throaty gasps. Lee ignores the warm come sticky and streaked on Richard’s stomach, draping his body and pinning Richard to the bed through the last twitches of orgasm. He chases his own high blindly, licking a stripe up Richard’s neck as he fucks in desperately. His own pants echo in his ears, lust-crazed, and he grips one of Richard’s legs, hefts it high and receives a hiss of pain and fingers gripping tight to his hair.

It doesn’t take long, and Lee muffles his shout against Richard’s shoulder as his hips stutter and he presses deep, rides it out as he lets out a strangled cry and feels hot and cold and numb and hyperaware all at once. The sweater is rough against his sweat-slicked skin, and Richard’s breathing is still uneven and fast.

He smells like sweat, like sex and like Lee himself. His touches, so rough moments ago, are gentle as they stroke down the line of Lee’s back, lulling him into a near-dreamlike state.

Lee knows that he needs to get up, that they should get cleaned up and get dinner, but just the thought of moving has him tired, the heaviness of his limbs amplified.

As if he’s read his mind Richard says, in a voice that’s just as foggy and sated as Lee feels, “Five minutes. Then we have to get up.”

Lee smiles and presses a kiss to Richard’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr (endofadream)


End file.
